


luck

by kiyala



Category: Six of Crows Series - Leigh Bardugo
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Gambling, Kissing, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-18
Updated: 2017-12-18
Packaged: 2019-02-16 14:20:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,560
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13055742
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kiyala/pseuds/kiyala
Summary: They first crossed paths in the University District, but that was before Jesper's first spin of Makker's Wheel, before Wylan thought he was off to study music. Before everything that came after.





	luck

**Author's Note:**

  * For [firstbreaths](https://archiveofourown.org/users/firstbreaths/gifts).



The Boeksplein was Jesper's favourite place in Ketterdam. It was one of the places where he spent most of his time, when he wasn't sharing drinks with friends by the Speaker's Bridge. There was plenty of studying to be done, but Jesper had never been a fan of sitting still for prolonged periods of time. At least this place was interesting enough to capture his attention when it wandered, holding it until it was ready to make its way back to the page in front of him.

It was different to the open prairies of Novyi Zem, and Jesper liked that too. He liked the bustle of the city, the narrow streets and the way the buildings were all crowded together like they were competing for space. That was one of the things that Jesper had heard about Ketterdam before coming here: everything was a competition, built on the foundations of profit and prosperity that formed the base of religion in these parts. The University District was a safe and respected place, but Jesper had heard talk of the Barrel, his friends and classmates speaking in whispers, half afraid and half thrilled, of the place where the worst parts of Ketterdam's reputation came from. It was the kind of place that chewed people up and pitted them against each other to survive, but the Financial District did that too. It was just done in finer clothing and with more money. 

Ketterdam, in its entirety, was Jesper's kind of place. It was constantly in motion, loud, and rough around the edges. Just like he was. He knew that this wasn't the reason his father had sent him so far away; he was here to get an education that would help him run the farm successfully when he returned, not to find a place that felt like home in the way that the prairie didn't, and border skirmishes did. 

With a sigh, Jesper rubbed a hand over his face and looked away from the gargoyle across the courtyard. He wasn't going to get any more studying done this afternoon. Not when he was this distracted.

He gathered his books into his bag and stood up. There were several other students sitting in the same area, doing their own work with a focus that Jesper envied, but his gaze fell on another boy who looked like he was struggling with the page in front of him just as much as Jesper had been. There was a tutor sitting with him, head bowed to speak in an undertone as the library's rules dictated, but Jesper could tell that whatever he'd said, it wasn't helping.

The boy looked up then, like he could feel Jesper's gaze on him, and flinched when their eyes met. Jesper felt his breath catch in his throat and he couldn’t move, couldn’t do anything but lose himself in the most beautiful eyes he'd ever seen, the same blue as the hyacinths that dotted the crooked streets outside in their window boxes. The boy blinked, colour rising to his porcelain cheeks, and averted his gaze before his tutor could notice his distraction.

Jesper grinned, and it was easier to move without the clear sky blue pinning him down. He deliberately walked past the boy and his tutor while making his way out of the library. The boy didn't look up, but Jesper saw the tension along his shoulders, running all the way down to the white-knuckled grip he had on his book. 

Jesper hoped that they would run into each other again. 

True to his luck, he didn't see the boy again no matter how many times he went back to the library that week. Not even when he tried different floors, or different times of the day. 

By the time two weeks had passed, Jesper was starting to imagine all kinds of reasons that he'd never see the boy again. He thought of the boy's flinch, the guilt at being caught doing something that he shouldn't have, and wondered if the pretty blush on his cheeks had been about something more than the way Jesper had been looking at him. 

He was wandering through the library, too deep in thought to be walking in a particular direction, when someone knocked into him. 

A glimpse of curls the colour of fire, and Jesper's heart skipped a beat. He knew exactly who this was. 

"You," the boy breathed, and Jesper bit back a grin. So he'd made an impression after all. 

"Master Van Eck!" A voice whispered loudly, the tutor too polite to raise his voice in the library. "Master Wylan. Get back here."

"Van Eck?" Jesper repeated, as Wylan slipped away. Reaching out, he grabbed hold of Wylan's wrist. "What did you do?"

Wylan's lips twisted sourly. Jesper suddenly found himself thinking that he'd like to kiss that expression off Wylan's pretty face. "It's more of a question of what I _didn't_ do. Let go, before he finds me."

"I'll see you around, then," Jesper replied as he let go of Wylan's hand, then added in an undertone, "I hope."

The tips of Wylan's ears were satisfyingly pink as he ducked in between bookshelves and out of sight. It put Jesper in a good enough mood that he didn't even mind sitting down and doing the rest of his assignments. If his mind wandered, he just went back to thinking of Wylan's face, and that was a pleasant kind of distraction, in a different way to the elegant design of the buildings around him. 

Next time, the wait before they crossed paths again wasn't quite as long. Jesper wondered if Wylan had something to do with that; this time, it was just a gentle bump of their shoulders together, and Wylan blinked up at him, lip caught between his teeth.

"Sorry, I didn't see you there," Wylan said, in a tone that suggested that he wasn't sorry at all, and he'd seen Jesper just fine. 

With a soft chuckle, Jesper crossed his arms across his chest. "You're a terrible liar, you know."

Wylan raised an eyebrow at him, smiling in a way that made Jesper feel like he was missing a joke. "I guess I could stand to improve."

Grinning, Jesper leaned against the bookshelf. "I'm Jesper. Did you lose your tutor again?" 

"Yeah. I'm Wylan."

"Van Eck," Jesper added. "Heard your tutor say it. You're not what I'd expect, for a merchling." 

Wylan's lips quirked, but there was no humour to them. "I get that a lot. I'm just Wylan. I take it you're not doing your work either?" 

"I'm participating in the time-honoured student tradition of procrastinating," Jesper replied with a wink, thrilled when it made Wylan's ears turn pink again.

"You don't want to sit in front of your books," Wylan translated. "Me neither."

"Are you inviting me to procrastinate with you, Wylan?" Jesper asked, lowering his voice. "I can think of all kinds of interesting things we could be doing instead."

This time, Wylan's blush didn't stop at his ears. It spread across his cheeks and dusted across his nose too, and it was the cutest thing Jesper had ever seen.

Just as Jesper was about to suggest finding someplace else to go, there was a whispered, "Master Wylan?"

Cursing softly under his breath, Wylan glanced around. "He's going to find me."

"Here," Jesper replied, pulling Wylan against a corner bookshelf, at the end of the aisle. He was taller than Wylan, enough to hide him by standing in front of him. "We'll have to get cosy."

Flattening himself against the wall, Wylan looked up at Jesper nervously. "He'll still recognise me if he looks in our direction."

"Master Wylan!" the tutor called, coming closer. Wylan looked like he was ready to bolt, and Jesper was torn between letting him go, and not wanting to wait another few days before they saw each other again.

"We can make it so that he doesn't want to look in our direction," Jesper suggested, raising an eyebrow. "We'll have to get even cosier."

Wylan must have understood, from the way his blue eyes widened and his cheeks turned a darker pink. He bit his lip, considering it for a moment before he nodded, his arms coming up to wrap around Jesper's shoulders. Pressing him right up against the shelf, Jesper bent to kiss him. He kept it gentle; Wylan looked like the type to bruise easily and as much fun as that could be, it could make things awkward for him later.

He wasn't expecting Wylan to kiss him back, but it was a pleasant kind of surprise. He heard Wylan's tutor call out again, this time at the end of their aisle, before hurriedly cutting himself off and walking away. Grinning into their kiss, Jesper tapped his fingers along Wylan's sides. He was expecting Wylan to pull away once they were safe, but he didn't. Wylan kept Jesper close, deepening their kiss and parting his lips. Jesper wasn't about to complain. 

When they finally pulled apart, they were both panting for breath. Wylan's eyes were glazed, his pupils blown, lips flushed bright pink. Jesper wanted to kiss him again, and again.

"That was fun," Wylan breathed. His gaze was fixed on Jesper's lips, like he couldn't physically make himself look away.

Grinning, Jesper leaned in again, so their lips were almost touching. "Yeah, it was."

"Let's get out of here," Wylan suggested. "Before my tutor doubles back."

Which was how they ended up in Jesper's room, making brief snippets of conversation between kisses. Jesper learned that Wylan liked numbers and music, that he could play the flute, and that he'd whine into their kiss if Jesper bit down on his lip.

"Is this what you do with all the boys?" Wylan asked against his mouth. "Bring them back here and kiss all the sense out of them?"

"Just the cute merchlings who have a tendency for mischief," Jesper replied. "They're the most fun."

Wylan huffed out a soft disbelieving laugh as Jesper pushed him to lie back on the bed. "I need to go back before my tutor goes to the stadwatch. I'll never be allowed to go to the library again."

"That would be unfortunate," Jesper sighed, reluctantly pulling away. "You look like a mess."

"Try not to sound so pleased with yourself," Wylan replied, running his hand over his hair to get it to sit flat again.

With a grin, Jesper ran his fingers through Wylan's curls, arranging them so that they looked neater. "There. You look presentable now. Like a well-mannered merchling who doesn't run off to kiss boys instead of doing his lessons."

Snorting, Wylan pushed at Jesper and got to his feet, pausing at the doorway. "Will I see you again?"

It was a hopeful, innocent question but that was what struck Jesper the most; Wylan was just a hopeful, innocent boy. He came from a comfortable life, where he never needed to ask for anything. He probably didn't know what desperation was like, or the feel of pistols in his hand, the way that Jesper did. 

He wanted Jesper anyway. Maybe it was a hopeful, innocent thing, but Jesper wanted him right back.

"Don't get banned from going to the library," Jesper told him, with one last kiss. "We'll go from there." 

Wylan grinned, bright and happy, and then he was gone. 

The next day, Jesper didn't see Wylan in the library at all. It made him twitchier than normal, unable to focus on his work for very long. He started walking instead, pacing between the aisles of shelves until it earned him irritated looks from the scholars nearby. He left before he could be kicked out, pacing his way through different sections instead. 

He ended up in the corner where he'd first kissed Wylan, tracing his fingers over the spines of the books on those shelves. They were histories, maps, books full of facts and information presented in the driest manner imaginable. Of course Wylan would duck his tutor if he was being made to read these, but then Jesper remembered that when they first saw each other, they weren't in this section at all. It didn't have anything to do with mathematics or music, and it made Jesper curious about what exactly Wylan was being made to study, and why he hated it so much.

It was probably business; he could insist on being _just Wylan_ all that he wanted, but that didn't change the fact that he was a Van Eck. There was an empire waiting for him to inherit. The kind of money that Jesper could only dream of. They were walking incredibly different paths, but Jesper chose not to dwell on that. He was more interested in enjoying the parts where they crossed. 

He was happier when, the next day as he walked into the library, Wylan was there already.

"You've escaped your tutor again, I see," Jesper said, as Wylan walked over to his side.

"I did one better. I said that I found someone who could help me study." Wylan grinned. "I have the afternoon free. I just need you to help me with one thing first."

"Devious," Jesper remarked, raising an eyebrow. "What do you need me to do?"

Wylan was carrying a book in his arms. He pressed it into Jesper's hands. "Read the third chapter for me? I have to memorise it, and it's easier when someone's reading to me. Besides, I like your voice."

"Flattery doesn't get you everywhere," Jesper said, then winked, "but it gets you far enough to count. Let's find a study room. How many times do you think you'll need me to read it out for you?"

"Once should be enough," Wylan murmured, and then at Jesper's surprised look, added, "Twice, maybe? I can memorise things quickly."

"I‘m getting that idea," Jesper remarked, impressed. "You know what? If you can do it in one, I'm taking you for waffles. I didn't realise you were a genius."

Wylan shook his head with a smile. "I'm really not, but I'll take you up on those waffles."

Jesper was certain that someone had gotten it into Wylan's head that he wasn't as intelligent as he actually was. He wanted to find that person and hit them over the head with the thick book that Wylan was memorising chapters from. It was about Jurda plantations and shipments, and it felt strange to Jesper that his family's livelihood was being reduced into a few simple pages for the son of a mercher who was probably responsible for keeping food on their table and bullets in their guns. He tried not to focus too much on what he was reading, glancing at Wylan instead, watching the way his lips moved silently, repeating the words to himself after Jesper. It was fascinating to watch, but then again, Jesper was sure that he could look at Wylan and come up with a hundred excuses not to look away.

"You're amazing," Jesper breathed, after Wylan was done reciting the chapter back to him. He even paused for long enough to let Jesper turn the pages while following along. "I don't care what anyone else has told you. I swear, you're one of the most clever people I know."

Wylan smiled, but Jesper noticed the way it didn't quite reach his eyes. "You owe me waffles."

There was a good café just a short walk from the Boeksplein that did the best waffles Jesper had ever eaten in Ketterdam. He and Wylan found a quiet corner to sit in, where people wouldn't look twice if they were sitting so close that their shoulders were bumping. 

Their waffles came topped with chocolate sauce, and Jesper found that he liked it even better when he was licking it from the corner of Wylan's mouth, back in the privacy of his room. He had Wylan pinned against the solid wood of his door and he could swear that Wylan liked it, already breathless even though Jesper was still sticking to short, playful kisses. Drawing a breath, Jesper kissed his way down Wylan's neck and bit down gently, humming happily at the full-bodied shudder that ran through Wylan.

"Again?" Jesper asked with a grin, pulling Wylan towards his bed.

By the time Wylan had to leave this time, he looked like an even bigger mess, his hair and shirt disheveled, and his lips bruised. Jesper stroked his thumb over them with a fond smile before helping to put him back together so he was presentable again. 

"I'll be back tomorrow," Wylan promised, kissing Jesper goodbye at the door. "I'm sure my tutor won't mind bringing me back to the library when he's getting the results he needs with none of the work."

"You're letting him underestimate you," Jesper realised with a rush of pride.

"It helps me get away with things," Wylan replied. "I'll see you tomorrow."

Only, Jesper didn't.

He spent the late afternoon looking forward to it, in a good mood that didn't falter even as his assignments started challenging him and his readings started to bore him. He even finished his work early enough that he was free to go out with his friends that night, bolstered by his good mood and enough cheap ale that wandering into the Barrel seemed like a good idea. It was something new and exciting, and Jesper didn't think anything of it.

Not until his first spin of Makker's Wheel.

It felt like something was clicking into place. The rush of winning was one thing, but Jesper couldn't get enough of the thrill, of that one suspended moment of his heart caught in his throat, just hoping that he would win.

He kept playing, long after the rest of his friends lost interest, long after he lost all of his winnings. It was under his skin now and he wanted more, until he lost track of time, forgetting that anything else even mattered until he no longer had any more kruge on him and was turned away.

He trudged all the way back to his room, still in a daze, and fell asleep the moment he crawled into bed. When he woke, the sun was setting and Jesper realised that he'd missed his classes, and Wylan too.

He wanted to go back to the Barrel with more money to spend. All he wanted was to sit at a table and play until he won again.

His father sent him here to study. Jesper pressed the heels of his palms to his eyelids and thought of his father alone on the farm, and his mother buried under the cherry blossom tree. It was sobering enough to resist the call of the Barrel.

The next day in class, his friends were concerned for him. In the Boeksplein, Wylan was trembling, his expression unreadable when he sat down next to Jesper.

"I looked for you yesterday," Wylan told him. "Everywhere. I even knocked on your door."

"I was busy," Jesper said. It wasn't a lie.

"I was worried."

"I'm sorry." It wasn't a lie either. Jesper rubbed a hand over his face. He could still feel the itch.

"My father…" Wylan began, a light tremble to his voice that captured Jesper's attention immediately. He sat up straight, and Wylan pressed his lips into a thin line, looking at him. "My father is sending me to Belendt. To study music."

Jesper didn't know what he was expecting, but it wasn't this. "…Oh."

"I'll be leaving tomorrow."

Jesper wondered how everything could change so suddenly, over the space of just two days. "Will you be back? For the holidays? Or…"

"I could be," Wylan replied, his voice a little too high-pitched. Sneaky as he could be, he still didn't know how to lie properly. He'd have a terrible poker face, Jesper thought to himself, and yearned for the card tables again.

"It sounds good for you," Jesper managed at last. "You did say you liked playing flute. You probably memorise all your sheet music too."

Wylan smiled. Jesper reached out, tracing it with his thumb.

"I can't stay for long," Wylan told him with that mix of sadness and excitement that came from leaving something behind with the promise of a better destination. Jesper knew it well. "I have to pack my bags. I just wanted to see you."

Jesper leaned in, so their noses were brushing against each other. They were sitting in a secluded section of the library, where they were unlikely to be interrupted. Wylan let out a shaky breath that ghosted over Jesper's lips.

"One more kiss," Jesper requested. "To remember you by."

Wylan kissed him hard, fingers trembling against Jesper's cheek. It made Jesper wonder what it would be like, if he and Wylan were walking similar enough paths that their time together didn't have to be this fleeting. 

"Remember me," Wylan told him, as they pulled apart.

"I will," Jesper breathed, kissing Wylan in return.

It wasn't a lie, at the time. He meant it more than most things, holding it close to his heart, but that was part of the problem. By sundown, Jesper was in the Barrel once again and it was the sort of place that took things and made them its own and the more precious they were, the better.

Wylan wasn't the only thing Jesper forgot in the Barrel; he forgot his father, the farm, the trip from Novyi Zem, and his studies too, until there was nothing left but the next card table, the next spin of Makker's Wheel, and the next loan he could take for more money to gamble away.

It was a haze and Jesper lost himself in it for longer than he could keep track of, and nothing could cut through it until Kaz Brekker did, with his sharp eyes and sandpaper voice. 

Jesper didn't trust him at first; he still had that much sense, if little else, but he no longer had the luxury of choosing very many things in his life. Kaz needed a sharpshooter and the pearl-handled pistols at Jesper's hips had proven their use in the Barrel already. Kaz must have taken notice, and running with Kaz meant running with the Dregs. Suddenly, Jesper had a place he belonged, he had things to do when he wasn't losing other people's money, and it was a hell of a lot more interesting than anything he could find in his books.

It was a good enough life that Jesper was content. A life with Kaz meant plenty of people to shoot at, and even more to shoot at him. It wasn't the kind of life he'd come to Ketterdam for, but it was one he was suited for all the same. He wasn't the same person he had been when he first arrived at Ketterdam, and he wasn't the same person he had been when he first came to the Barrel either. He didn't spare any thoughts for that life any more.

Not until Kaz had an errand for him.

"There's a tannery I want you to go to," Kaz told him, staring into the distance the way he did when he was figuring out a scheme. "It's the workplace for a budding chemist we could have use for. "Go and ask for Wylan."

Jesper nearly dropped the pistol he was polishing. "Wylan."

Kaz gave him an irritated look. "Do I need to send someone else to do it?"

"You don’t have to. I'll do it," Jesper replied, trying to shake himself out of it. There was no reason to react like this. It was just a name, and it couldn't belong to who he thought of. He could think of no reason for a merchling to be working in a tannery, and that was ignoring the fact that the Wylan he knew would be in Belendt.

He told himself the same thing when he was at the tannery, walking towards Wylan, dressed in an apron, with the same ruddy curls and eyes the colour of a cloudless sky. Jesper was lucky the dye chief knew exactly which crew he was from; he couldn't bargain or threaten now, and couldn't even think clearly. Most of all, he couldn't look away from Wylan, who had noticed Jesper now and was staring at him too. 

"Hey," Jesper said, when they were standing face to face. It felt like an eternity since they said their goodbyes, never expecting to see each other again. "So, I see music school went well."

Wylan blushed just as easily as ever, but he squared his shoulders and stood his ground. "Just as well as university did for you, I take it."

Huffing out a laugh, Jesper offered him a slip of paper. "Come here after work. We might have a job for you. A real job."

Wylan stared at the paper, then at Jesper.

"Or," Jesper added, "I could come and fetch you when you're finished."

Wylan blinked at him. "You said we. Who else?"

"You'll see," Jesper replied, and he thought he saw a flicker of wariness in Wylan's expression. Then he noticed the way Wylan was looking at his lips, and the longing crashed over him so hard that he couldn't breathe. "…Wylan."

"After work," Wyaln said. "I'll meet you here."

Jesper gave a jerky nod, looking Wylan from head to toe, committing the sight to memory. "I'll see you later."

It was a nice kind of promise to make, even if Jesper knew that he would be restless for the entire afternoon. He couldn't find somewhere to sit, knowing that he'd fidget the entire time, and knew better than to sit at a card table right now.

He ended up pacing through town until it was time to meet Wylan. He couldn't think of a single good reason Kaz would want Wylan, but had plenty of bad ones and all of them started with the fact that he was Wylan Van Eck. Jesper didn't know why Wylan wasn't in Belendt, or how he'd ended up here of all places. Kaz probably did, but that was because there were no secrets that could be kept from him or his Wraith. It made Jesper wonder if Kaz had sent Jesper deliberately, if he somehow knew that their paths had crossed before.

Jesper found that he didn't care, walking to the tannery as the sun was beginning to set. Wylan was waiting for him, the gold of the sunset catching in his hair and making it shine like copper. He was beautiful and he was here, back in Jesper's life again. It had felt like all of his luck had deserted him in the past few months, but Jesper knew that he'd take several more months' worth of losing hands if it meant that Wylan could stay in his life this time.

"Ready?" he asked, even though he knew there was no possible way Wylan could be, when he had no idea what he was walking into.

Wylan took his hand anyway, trusting him. He was just as hopeful and innocent as ever, and Jesper wanted to taste the smile on Wylan's lips, to feel it curve against his own mouth.

"As ready as I'll ever be," Wylan replied, squeezing Jesper's fingers in his own. "Let's go."


End file.
